Threads 15

“Each art is composed of a number of forms, patterns of qi which are woven into the cycling of your qi to empower spirit and flesh. Techniques then, are the active use of those patterns, projected through carefully attuned channels,” Elder Heng’s reedy but steady voice traveled well, perfectly audible even in the far back corner of the lecture hall Ling Qi had seated herself in.

“However truly mastering arts of the third realm is not merely a matter of techniques and attacks,” Elder Heng continued. “Art’s developed solely for the first and second realm are simple utilitarian things, and where they are not, it is because they are offering training for the use of more advanced arts.”

Ling Qi’s ink brush swept silently across the paper. Cai Renxiang didn’t need her to take notes anymore, but she had found it was a good habit, and it helped her improve her handwriting besides.

“For you, who have reached the third, and who may aspire to the fourth, the true importance of mastering arts is what scholars call the ‘insight’,” Elder Heng said, shaking out his sleeves. Then raising his hands, he drew streamers of silver qi from the pool below him, shaping them into complex patterns. “Qi is the building block of reality, and the patterns of a third realm art are statements about reality. In practicing and meditating upon these patterns, you meditate upon these statements.”

Even as she took her notes, Ling Qi’s thoughts wandered a little. She wasn’t the only one who had won her challenge, Meizhen had risen up to the lower ranks of the seven hundreds, a memorable display by Xiulan carried her into the upper ranks of the eight hundreds, and a less memorable medicine mixing contest left Li Suyin in the mid eight hundreds.

“In mastering an art, you contemplate the thesis of its maker and draw conclusions from it,” The patterns of silver light around the Elder shifted, twining into ever more intricate patterns that whispered of meaning and action. “This is the insight. In mastering an art, and taking insight from it, you carve that belief into your soul, and take another step in building your way.”

Ling Qi frowned a little watching the patterns. She had already done something like that, hadn’t she? When she had mastered the Argent Mirror, she had resolved not to lie to herself. Maybe that was why the events of the dream struck her so hard, where in earlier life she had done questionable things without nearly so much pain.

Even if she wanted to, she wasn’t capable of rationalizing her choice as anything but the naked cowardice it had been. Not any more.

“It is this which makes the third realm the lengthiest stage in your cultivation thus far. At each stage of the realm, you must seek insight into yourself, and in time tribulations to develop your path further,” Elder Heng continued. “The ultimate goal of the third realm is the creation of your Domain Name. First through insight, and then through the development of your own arts, and finally the tribulation that will set the Name of your Way. Most stall on this road, unable to develop a cohesive meaning for their lives. It is no easy process, and you will make sacrifices on the way.”

The air around the Elder shimmered, and for a moment he seemed even more translucent than normal. For just a moment the stern old man’s face flickered, revealing a featureless mask of silver. “Those who walk to the summits of cultivation change themselves, cut things from themselves, and one cannot retrieve what is discarded.”

Ling Qi remembered Elder Jiao’s words, and the genuine fatigue in the normally bombastic man’s voice. Her grip tightened on her brush, blotting the ink. Taking a deep breath, she refocused her thoughts on the lesson, now jumping off into the mechanical minutiae of arts.

She would not be one of those who stalled in the third realm.

***

Of course, not all lessons took place in lecture halls.

The last few hours had been exhausting. Keeping up with a higher realm cultivator setting a deliberately punishing pace through difficult terrain was no easy task, let alone one who was deliberately making some small effort to throw them from her trail and lose them in the twisting, misty vales that lay between the higher peaks. Still, she had made it to the end, along with her ‘classmates’.

Ling Qi stood at attention in line with a half dozen other disciples, none of whom she particularly recognized. Two were only a few years older than her, but the other four were clearly older men and women, all caught in that halfway state between the second and third realms, or in one case, fully second but on the edge of breaking through. She felt awkward being the youngest yet also the highest cultivation.

She was a little surprised at her fellow disciples’ attitudes. The two fully third realm disciples, with ranks in the lower half of the eight hundreds, had eyed her with envy and some resentment. The rest, who Ling Qi estimated to be in their early thirties and who held ranks in the nine hundreds, seemed ambivalent but otherwise nonchalant about her. Perhaps that was simply military discipline, seeing as they had all been promoted from within the Sect’s army. They were probably used to being overshadowed by much younger people.

Of course, no one was looking at anyone else right now. She was pretty sure the fourth realm core disciple currently examining them would put anyone who showed such a lack of attention into the ground.

The young woman standing across from them with her arms folded behind her back had managed to remind Ling Qi of her first physical cultivation instructor before Ling Qi had even heard her name. Guan Zhi resembled her father in other ways as well. Scandalously dressed, wearing only a tight, dark green cloth wrap that covered her chest and little else and form-fitting pants of a lighter shade tucked neatly into sturdy black boots that rose almost to her knees. Cloth bandages wrapped her forearms and hands. Her long hair was tied back in a single, tightly braided tail.

<Not going to ogle this one?> Sixiang asked idly. <Usually, you can’t get enough of muscles, even if this one isn’t as bulgy.>

Ling Qi kept her eyes ahead and her expression studiously straight. <Still not interested in women, Sixiang,> she reminded.

<Right. I keep forgetting how that division works. Is it really only the reproductive bits that->

Thankfully, Sixiang’s musings were cut off as their instructor began to speak. While her voice was feminine, she had her father’s same air of command and brooked no inattention.

“Good. At least you can all stay at attention. The seven of you have been screened for introduction into the officer level of the scouting and skirmishing forces.” Guan Zhi spoke in a quick, clipped tone, unmoving from her starting position. “It is a dangerous duty. We act with less support than our main branch comrades and often undertake missions of greater personal danger. As an officer, your responsibilities will only increase. For the remainder of the year, you will all receive training in small unit tactics, reconnaissance, and various other minor but still crucial skills.”

Ling Qi had known that the Sect would be offering military tutoring, and the start of the third month had brought its start. Even if she was going to be departing in two years, she would gladly take advantage of it. So long as she was in the Sect, she was a member of their forces and entitled to attend the lessons. Giving young nobles a taste of responsibility and discipline was part of the Inner Sect’s purpose after all.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“I will oversee the instruction of those of you promoted from the actual Skirmish Division,” Guan Zhi continued. “You do not require lessons on the basics, only the additional responsibilities that arise from being an officer.” Ling Qi sensed a tiny flicker of pride and a minute straightening of stances from the older and lower ranked disciples. “For the three of you remaining, you will be acting as understudies to current officers. Follow their instructions exactly.”

Ling Qi glanced at the others, seeing them surreptitiously looking around as Guan Zhi gave a sharp gesture to the other disciples and began to lead them away.

“Still so inattentive, Junior Sister Ling?” Ling Qi nearly jumped out of her skin at the smooth male voice that spoke as if directly in her ear.

She spun around on instinct, bringing herself face-to-face with her one time tutor, Liao Zhu. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the other remaining disciples receiving similar frights from those she assumed to be their own instructors. Liao Zhu looked much the same as he had when she had seen him a few months ago. The tall, muscular boy still wore an open vest of leather, hung with a dozen or more black knives, and a silver-fanged demon mask over his lower face. The only new feature she noticed was a star of scarred flesh on his left shoulder.

<Nothing wrong with this one though, right?> Sixiang needled.